


Three Wishes

by Sundiver



Series: Sundiver's Steter Week 2018 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demisexual Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Knotting, Light BDSM, M/M, Mafia AU, Mating Bites, Steter Week, Steter Week 2018, Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Know About Werewolves, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sundiver/pseuds/Sundiver
Summary: “So, if you find a magic lamp with a genie in it, what would your three wishes will be?” Stiles’ voice brought Peter back from his reverie.





	Three Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> Today’s prompt: Mating bite  
> So, you guys will probably notice the recurring teams in all my works for Steter week – Alive Hale Family, Stiles is in college/finished it already, Stiles is becoming/became a detective. I thought it was fitting to have a recurring theme for the week, since it is an early thing. Also, English is not my first language. This work is beta-read by wonderful and amazing Blinc43, who not only did an amazing job, but volunteered her time to help me with my English. She has a patience of a saint – if you ask me – to put up with my hectic writing style, runaway sentences, and to top that she’s explaining everything! Blinc43, you rock!  
> If you find any errors, guys, please keep in mind that beta-reading and proof reading is like hitting a sack of flour – there is always more and catching everything until the forth/fifth go is near impossible. Also, for some reason, people catch more mistakes while reading from printed paper than from the screen. Speaking from professional experience here, so trust me on this. We are sorry we didn’t catch everything, and since the mistakes are mine, put all the blame on me.  
> Oh, I have tumblr now!  
> http://sundiver4steter.tumblr.com/

 

Peter Hale roared his completion when he emptied himself in his young lover for the second time that night, and the boy beneath him cried out his own orgasm with him.

‘ _This is Heaven_ ’ was the only thought Peter was capable of while coming down from his high. Sweaty, panting and satiated, he looked down at the wide honey brown eyes with blown pupils, and creamy, mole-dotted skin, so beautifully marked by his hickeys. The boy beneath him was completely blissed out and smelling of Peter’s sweat, pre-come and release. Smelling of Peter. Smelling of belonging. Smelling of mate and claimed and mine.

Peter stole one last possessive, vicious, almost painful kiss, before manhandling the boy to his satisfaction – little spoon position - without pulling out, hard dick still seated deeply in his mate. His mate. The werewolf tightened his grip around his young lover and buried his nose in the crook of the boy’s neck. The wolf inside him was preening, proud of the thorough work they had done on the pale flesh in their first ‘go’. Peter imprinted the skin with hickeys and teeth-marks, and rubbed his first load into the skin. His mate. He wasn’t getting soft any time soon, not until he fucked his boy at least two more times. But for now his young mate needed a bit of rest to catch his breath and most likely some water. Dehydration from too much sex was a thing. With Peter’s insatiable appetite it was guaranteed. Good thing Peter was a planner – there were bottles of water and Gatorade in hand’s reach… so Peter wouldn’t need to pull out to go and fetch some.

The werewolf loved staying hard in his human for half an hour after cumming, before having another go to town on his boy. This was the closest thing to knotting he could do at the moment.

The truth was, Peter was a coward. He couldn’t bring himself to confess to Stiles that a) werewolves were a thing, b) he was one, and c) they were mates, which was a life-long commitment.

Oh, Peter and Stiles had been together-together for six months now. They met about nine months ago in a night club. Peter came monthly so the owner could pay his respects to Peter’s family. And who says one cannot mix business with pleasure? After the business part of the evening was done, the werewolf decided to find himself a warm body for the night. He had found one, alright. A warm body for the night and every night after. The problem was how to get to said body.

Peter Hale always got what he wanted in the end, and his mate was so far above every other item on the top of that list that he was a list all on his own. But Peter had had to work hard for it, and looking back now, he could say he had thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

The moment the werewolf had scented his mate among the smell of alcohol, sweat, lust and loose inhibitions that permeated every nook and cranny of the club had felt like being hit by a sledge hammer. The werewolf had just been standing there at the bar waiting for his drink when he noticed the person three barstools down had a faint smell of someone else on him. The smell of milk, freshly baked cookies, and pine needles and home. ‘ _Mate!’_ his wolf had roared in Peter’s head from the first whiff and had gone ballistic. Peter had a hard time fighting his wolf down, because their mate was in a club where anyone could snatch him, and where everyone could put their hands on what was _theirs_. And then there had been the overwhelming joy that they _have_ a mate, and not only have a mate but had _found_ him too. It was such a wonder that Peter had to spend several minutes for the knowledge to settle in before he could do anything else. Then he had gone to track down the man who was destined to be his.

Stiles had been sitting at the corner table, sipping something abhorrently chocolaty looking with a _cocktail_ _umbrella_ in it, the mere look of which had made Peter cringe. Later on Peter would learn that his mate had a ginormous sweet tooth and an aversion to alcohol, so the only alcoholic drink he could be forced to have was something sweet. For the moment Peter had been content to observe and memorize every detail about his little mate. Well, little was relative and more term of endearment than reality. Stiles was actually an inch taller than him, although too thin and gangly compared to Peter’s toned and muscled body. He had turned twenty one recently, but he could easily pass for seventeen years old. Peter knew the owner of the bar and knew that no underage drinking would be allowed in the establishment. Fake IDs were found out in a single glance. This was a relatively high class club, after all. But in Peter’s mind Stiles had been, and always will be, a boy. _His_ boy.

The wolf tuned into the conversation at his mate’s table. His mate had apparently been a shitty wingman, refused drinks from strangers, wouldn’t dance with anyone, and was not very much into the club scene. Peter’s mate was apparently an introverted college student, very focused on his studies, working on his double major on criminology and psychology… and hadn’t had a single one-night-stands in his life. The wonders of eavesdropping. Well, Peter decided, it was time for his young mate to have his first and only ‘going-home-with-a-stranger’ experience. Unfortunately, Peter hadn’t gotten his wish that night, even after he had turned the charm to eleven.

It had been a first for the werewolf and he hadn’t known how to feel about that. On one hand – someone (his mate!) had turned him down! On the other – there apparently was no danger of someone just barging in on Peter’s courtship to make trouble.

He went home that night alone, which was practically a first – Peter plus clubs meant a long night of carnal pleasures. And there were plenty of people in the club who had wanted to get close to him – some old flames wanting a repeat, some new – hoping to get close to a Hale.

Instead, he had left the club alone and proceeded to follow his mate from afar to his apartment to make sure his boy reached his home safe. Then he had gone to his own apartment to jerk off several times on a roll thinking about mole-dotted skin and caramel-colored eyes.

In some aspects it had been weird. Forget about stalking, even just pursuing someone was not Peter’s style. He just needed to snap his fingers and a crowd of willing admirers would appear, and yet he hadn’t felt the need for an actual nameless body under him. He wanted only his mate.

He had known that would happen – once a wolf meets their mate, that’s it for them – but knowing it and experiencing it had been two different things. Besides, his wolf had enjoyed hunting their mate from the shadows immensely.

Despite the initial rebuff, Peter hadn’t been discouraged in the slightest. He had known the mate pull will be enough for Stiles to give him a chance eventually. So he started showing up at Stiles’ favorite coffee shops and bumped into him at stores. In all, Peter had been everywhere, sassy, cocky, confident, and – honestly - slightly menacing. For the life of him, Peter Hale could not get rid of his menacing aura entirely, even for his own courtship! They chatted, and little by little became acquainted. It wasn’t hard, Stiles evidently liked him. The wolf couldn’t comprehend why, the mate pull could only help just so far. But the kid genuinely enjoyed his company! So Peter had made his move.

First was the _let’s-go-out-for-drinks_ talk that derailed into _yes-Stiles-this-is-a-date_ talk, which digressed even further into _there-are-no-leagues_ _-Stiles-and-if-I-say-you-are-in-mine-you-are-that’s-the-whole-point-Stiles-I-can-have-whoever-I-want-so-I-want-you-and-I-get-what-I-want-period_ talk. Which resulted – _finally_ \- in their first date.

Peter had been circling the young man for weeks at that point, had been sexually frustrated and probably had been little bit too pushy and snappish, but to his delight the boy had submitted to him.

Stiles had been wary of him at first, which – fair. Peter was the chief of security of a multinational trading company with a not-too-stellar reputation, and Stiles was smart as a whip. He confessed to Peter that the first time he had seen him, Peter screamed _danger_ and _mob-enforcer_.

Which – also fair. Peter was the pack’s Left Hand, and some aspects of the pack business was not exactly legal per se, and Peter did enjoy looking scary, dangerous, and intimidating. But Stiles also confessed he had felt drawn to Peter since the first time he laid eyes on him.

They had the relationship talk just a handful of dates later, where Peter had to explain his… previous promiscuity and the sleeping with everything on two legs that he fancied.

Peter had had… hell, still had – among people who weren’t _in the know_ or didn’t know yet that Stiles was his mate – a bit of a reputation.

When Peter asked the young man who was meant to be his, _why_ Stiles had given him a chance – the boy hadn’t done casual ever – his mate just shrugged. According to Stiles it had been one third experiment (lie), one third lust (partial lie), and one third hope this time would be different for Peter (true), which had cemented Peter’s firm belief that his mate was an incurable romantic.

Stiles had bought Peter’s story that he was just searching for the right guy, and that he had found him in the youngling. Peter also sensed the inner turmoil in the boy. Stiles had known that this probably was a lie, which it was, but not in the way Stiles thought. Peter just never thought he would be blessed with a mate, and loved having whatever he fancied up to that point, including people. But Stiles had this need to believe in what he called ‘silly romantic notions’. Peter was oh-so very glad for those, because any sane person who didn’t want something from him – favors, money, connections, power - would have run for the hills from the get-go.

Also, Peter was very, very glad for the mating pull and any other form of help he could get, because the aspects of his notoriety weren’t doing him any favors whatsoever.

To Peter’s utter dismay and fascination he soon discovered that his mate was a study in contradictions. He was incredibly level headed, but at the same time, when he liked someone he would go a great lengths for them, even doing reckless or borderline illegal things.

His boy had a very realistic view of the world, sometimes even cynical. At the same time he believed – or rather wished with all his heart – things like happily-ever-after and true love existed and were real.

The young man also had very strong moral compass, a very clear sense of right and wrong, but instead of seeing life in black and white he saw it in shades of gray. He understood that sometimes, depending on the circumstances, doing the wrong thing was the right thing to do. Some people called that flexible morals, Peter called it realism.

Stiles had his legs firmly planted on the proverbial ground, lived and navigated the cruel real world masterfully, but at the same time he was huge fan of science fiction and fantasy. When Peter asked him why, his mate had just shrugged and simply stated “Escapism. You need to look very hard to find a sci-fi or fantasy story without a happy ending”. He confessed to Peter that he had started with comic books, but switched to novels when his favorite superheroes kept dying. Stiles knew that life was unfair and despite living it, he was running away from it at the same time in his books.

His boy was a son of a sheriff and was studying to enter law-enforcement himself, and at the same time he had no problems with Peter’s not-so-legal-all-the-time occupation. He had asked the wolf point blank on their first date if he was involved in drugs, weapons-trade or prostitution, and when Peter’s answer was a definite ‘no’, Stiles settled down. The werewolf was pretty sure if the answer had been ‘yes’ to any of the three, that would have been the end of them then and there. But apparently Stiles was okay with some extortion, some illegal trade, some scaring of the competition, and territory protection by all means necessary. Including murder. Not that Stiles knew about it, or that Peter would ever confess to any of it, but his boy was very smart, and Peter _had_ a reputation. The wolf was most astounded by this easy acceptance.

That raised a question or two in the werewolf, and he asked the boy – point-blank – if Stiles had ever killed someone. His mate had answered no, but he admitted his father had – on the job, and one time the Sheriff had done it in front of Stiles. Later, in the middle of the night, smelling of worry and doubt, Stiles had confessed he was scared he wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger when ‘it was his turn’. Peter just hugged him tighter and kissed him on the forehead.

Once, out of morbid curiosity, Peter asked Stiles if would date a serial killer. The boy just had given him a _look_ , and proceeded to lecture him for the next two hours straight about the differences on killing to stroke one’s own ego and killing to protect. Peter had left the experience humbled and chastened.

Stiles was fascinating, and Peter couldn’t wait to solve the puzzle that was his mate’s mind. He sensed it was going to be lifelong effort.

That had given the werewolf permission to truly be himself around the boy, to show his softer side, the side no one – even his alpha – had ever seen. Also, to show his most vicious, bloodthirsty and cunning side, which – to the werewolf’s utter dismay - Stiles reacted with fond exasperation.

After the relationship talk they had the _we’re_ _exclusive talk_. Which, in Peter’s opinion was completely unnecessary because Stiles was monogamous down to his DNA and Peter hadn’t felt even the tiniest smidgen of interest for someone else since he found his mate. But the talk was necessary since Stiles didn’t know about the Supernatural, didn’t know about mates, and was still driven by the norms and customs of human society. Stiles had presented Peter with a clean bill of health, and asked Peter to go get tested so they can drop the condoms. Not that Peter could get anything even if he wanted to, but Stiles hadn’t known that.

Then there was _I-have-feelings-for-you talk_ , when Stiles started leaving things in Peter’s apartment. Peter had been over the moon in more ways than one, that this beautiful, clever, brilliant boy, who happened to be a son of a sheriff, was so openly admitting he had fallen for what was essentially a mob-boss. Mate pull can only help you just so far, and _that_ had been so far outside of them being mates that the wolf had been astounded beyond belief.

After that the _I-think-I’m-in-love-with-you_ talk was kind of unnecessary in Peter’s opinion, but Stiles felt the need to say it, so Peter first listened, and then assured his mate the feelings were more than mutual because Peter _knew_ he was in love with Stiles. The wolf had already scented that Stiles was head-over-heels in love with him, despite the young man’s reluctance to say the words.

Somewhere around then there was the _money talk_ , which was not fun for Peter. He wanted, no, scratch that, he _needed_ to spoil his boy rotten. Said boy however had some very firm views on the matter. Peter had a lot more money compared to Stiles and it was sore point for the youth. Stiles had blown a gasket when Peter had tried to buy him a new car.

Peter’s alpha personality clashed badly with Stiles’ incredible stubbornness.

They butted heads on more than one occasion and Stiles had no problems whatsoever telling Peter off, _despite_ the wolf’s reputation. To this day Peter found it incredibly refreshing to have someone who wouldn’t cower before him. Granted, they were mates and the no-fear thing was a given, but still… Stiles wasn’t scared of Peter whatsoever.

Peter didn’t want his mate to cower before him, but being who he was, the werewolf was accustomed to a certain level of respect and deference. Despite the werewolf’s fame, wealth, or obvious power, Stiles was treating Peter as an equal, which was all sorts of nice. Peter never had had that before, he was either subordinate or superior in the pack, never an equal. But it left the wolf in him baffled and confused, like the beast didn’t know what to do with it. Honestly, Peter didn’t know either. People told cautionary stories about what Peter _did_ to those who crossed him or his. Stiles knew all that, he knew Peter was the human equivalent of ‘the boogieman’. It was mind boggling!

One time Peter had shown up to Stiles’ apartment covered in blood and the boy just demanded to know if any of the blood was his, and when Peter had answered ‘no’ – his wounds had healed already - Stiles proceeded to lecture him on the best ways to clear blood stains. Like he wasn’t bothered at all Peter had just had beaten someone to a bloody pulp. If the werewolf hadn’t already fallen irreversibly in love with the frustrating boy already, Stiles’ easy acceptance would have sealed the deal then and there.

Peter simply adored the boy. That didn’t mean  ‘smooth sailing’, though.

Stiles turned out to have a very dominant personality as well, but to the wolf’s delight was submitting willingly to his mate. Which itself was a very curious and rare phenomenon. From what Peter had seen in his boy, gathered from some deeper digging behind his mate’s back, deduced from what he had found and observed, Stiles was naturally submissive, but had been forced into an alpha role due to circumstances, and now it was hard for him to return to his natural state and let his mate take the lead.

All in all, combining their different social standings had been an adjustment for both of them, but they had made it in the end.

There was the _meet-the-family talk_ , which was kind of hard, because Talia had been firm that she didn’t want Peter’s mate anywhere near the pack until Stiles knew about the Supernatural. The werewolf had to do some creative bending the truth to evade introducing Stiles officially to the rest of the Hales. Oh, various pack members had bumped _accidentally_ into them on their outings, probably sent by their alpha, but had been content to just observe the couple from a far and not approach them. Stiles was somewhat placated when Peter agreed to meet his Dad, the Sheriff. The meeting had gone… weird. There was the expected gun cleaning routine and John Stilinski had stated that he knew about Peter’s reputation. But then he had assured Peter that he trusted his son’s judgment and besides, if Peter hurt his boy, there wouldn’t be any problems with the law for Peter on the account of Peter being six feet under already.

Peter also had kept his mate away from his friends and acquaintances as much as possible, because he hadn’t wanted the boy to be scared away or hurt by an inappropriate or spiteful remark. Needless to say, the vanishing of playboy Peter from the club scene had been the talk of the town for a while, and most people – Peter’s so-called friends included - had mixed feelings about that.

After that the _lets-move-in-together_ talk had followed, which included an exchange of keys for their respective places, and an agreement that neither of their places would suffice and they would be looking for a place they could start building a life together.

Finally, there was the _I’m-with-you-for-the-long-haul_ conversation, and for the first time it was initiated by Peter, after a previous flame of his had tried to publicly humiliate Stiles and split them up. It had been pure jealousy and the person didn’t have any intentions further than ‘muddying the waters’ between them by playing on Stiles’ obvious insecurities. That hadn’t flown very well with Peter and the person left town in search of new employment and housing not three weeks after the scene he caused.

“So, if you find a magic lamp with a genie in it, what would your three wishes  be?” Stiles’ voice brought Peter back from his reverie. Oh, his little mate wanted their third time to be role-play! Peter would be delighted to oblige, he had very fond memories from when they played ‘Roman Emperor and slave’, ‘Achilles and Patroclus’ and ‘Vikings raiding a Slavic village’. However this time the role play was going to be an imaginary rather than historical scenario. The usual role-play initiation question was ‘If you have a time machine, when would you go?’ and Peter was more than happy to indulge his mate’s fantasies. Oh, they played the more traditional games also – a ‘cop and a perp’, a ‘teacher and student’, ‘truck-driver and hitchhiker’. One memorable time they even played a rape scenario. The wolf would very much like a repeat performance, but was willing to let his little mate to ask for it when the mood strikes. Also, to Peter’s immense delight, Stiles was a big fan of somnophilia and was practically ecstatic to wake up to his mate balls-deep inside him. Their naughty kinks complemented each other’s perfectly up to this point, and Peter was curious what would his boy wanted to play this time.

“Well, sweetheart,” he tried to guess “for one, I would have asked for male pregnancy to be a thing. I would have enjoyed nothing more than fill you up with my babies”.

Stiles gave out a noncommittal hum.

“Also, I’d ask for a couple more centuries with you” Peter decided to indulge himself a little with his second hypothetical wish. “I would ask for eternal life for us both, you know how greedy I am, but I don’t think the genie would agree to that. So a couple more centuries to enjoy you would be nice. A single life time with you is hardly enough, and, as I said, I’m greedy. And selfish.”

Stiles chuckled, his scent filling with _happy_.

“And for the third wish?” he asked.

Peter decided their third time would be nice, long, slow, romantic lovemaking.

“Eternal youth, to compliment the second wish” he hummed thoughtfully. “You’ll still look gorgeous even at three hundred, but I’m afraid I’ll be all bald and wrinkly. You will drop me for someone younger like a hot potato.”

He nuzzled his boy’s neck and inhaled the scent of the semen rubbed in there. His semen. His mate. _His_.

“What about you, sweet boy?” Peter rumbled, kissing the spot.

Stiles hummed thoughtfully.

“First, I would ask for werewolves to be a thing, second I would ask to be your mate, and the third – for you to be able to knot me”.

And all Peter’s thoughts went into a screeching halt.

He was so startled he almost lost his erection.

“What?” he asked dumbfounded.

Stiles sighed.

“Yeah. I wish you were a werewolf.”

And that was it. Nothing more followed that vague statement. Peter was incensed that his little mate would not elaborate any further, and at the same time tried to ignore his wolf doing cartwheels in his head.

Peter paused to gather himself a bit.

“I need a little more to work with here, sweet boy” and his voice come out deeper and huskier than intended. “Please explain.” 

Stiles sighed and pressed back on Peter’s hard shaft, snuggling deeper into his mate’s embrace.

“I’ve been reading this fantasy novel,” he begun, “about werewolves. Werewolves live in packs and mate for life and don’t stray. So I kind of wished you were a werewolf and I was your mate.”

Ah, his boy’s insecurities were rearing their ugly head again, Peter realized.

“You know this is serious for me, right?” he asked softly. “Like dead serious. Like in _death-do-us-part_ serious.”

Stiles sighed wistfully.

“I know, Peter” he stated quietly. “And I know that you mean it. But will you mean it in five years? Your middle-age crisis is just around the corner! You will start buying even more ridiculous sport cars, and trade me for someone barely legal and ten times better looking!” he exclaimed dramatically as if to emphasize the joke, but Peter could smell the real worry hidden deep beneath the merriment and teasing and _playful mate_.

Peter growled.

“Even if I start buying even more expensive and luxury cars, Sweetness, I won’t trade you for the world!” he stated.

Stiles grew serious and his scent soured.

“You can’t blame me for my doubts. You are the sexiest man on the planet, and you are rich, and influential and have this dangerous-sexy vibe going on for you. Thousands of people want to tap that. And you might change your mind at any moment, or fall out of love or something. I can never be enough for you, I’m honestly surprised I have been enough for you this far. You know what people say. Once a man-slut, always a man-slut.”

Peter jolted like he was struck.

Well, if there is one thing can be said about his boy, it was that Stiles never sugar coated anything and was brutally honest when it counted.

The wolf tried very hard not to take offense at that. Instead, he chose to stay silent, mulling his boy’s words.

From a human’s prospective, Stiles definitely had a point. Peter knew men, had witnessed wealthy humans going through exactly what his boy referred to. They would have wild years, sleep with everyone new who threw themselves at them, then find a partner an settle down for several years, a decade or more and then... Then the dreaded forties would arrive and they would revert to old habits, leaving their spouses and children behind. To feel themselves young again. To prove to themselves that they still had it.

With dawning horror Peter realized that without his mate, if he had  stopped partying around, he would have been one of those men. He would most definitely have reverted back to being a man-slut. He was vain and self-centered enough to be exactly like one of those men and the age difference between him and Stiles was just another thing to enforce this worry in his boy. He knew how their relationship looked from the outside. He also knew all those men hadn’t meant to revert to their old selves, hadn’t meant to leave their families behind. It just happened one day. They would swear they were happy, they would swear they were in love with their spouses, loved their families, and would never leave them - and it all would have been the truth, there would be no lie in their voice, in their scent, or in their heart-beats… And five years later – BAM – it wouldn’t be true anymore.

Stiles was right. Stiles was absolutely right!

 _If_ Peter wasn’t a werewolf _and_ Stiles wasn’t his mate!

“What about your middle-age crisis?” he asked, a lump in his throat.

Stiles snorted.

“Please, all I can think about is how I can keep you for myself for longer!”

Which was, of course, true. Stiles never had done one night stands and had confessed to Peter that up until he met the wolf he had thought about himself as a demisexual. The thing was, he probably _was_ demisexual, and Peter had managed to bag the boy only because of the mate pull.

The real problem here, Peter decided, was that he was a chickenshit. He hadn’t found the courage to tell Stiles about the Supernatural, about werewolves and about them being mates. And apparently, his boy wanted exactly that. He decided to abandon the previous topic for a more interesting one.

“So you wish I was a werewolf, huh?” he said as he gently scraped the boy’s neck with his teeth and enjoyed the young man’s shiver.

“Werewolves turn you on Stiles?” he let a growl seep in his voice.

Stiles moaned and pressed back on the hard shaft imbedded in his body.

“Hell, yeah!” he sighed. “You know how much I enjoy the breath play? I mean, when you have your arm on my throat, and it would take just one squeeze to kill me? But instead of harming me, you’re bringing me pleasure? I’m in your grasp to do whatever you’d like and you choose this? That is one hell of an aphrodisiac, Peter!” Stiles moaned again, the whole tirade accompanied by him slowly rocking himself on Peter’s shaft.

“It drives me wild” Stiles moaned, fully turned on now, ready and willing and begging for round three. “The capacity for violence and then choosing not to go that way. I feel like I’m the only person you wouldn’t harm in the entire world in that moment. The claws and fangs will only add another layer to that. Like I’m the little lamb, snatched by the big bad wolf and dragged to his lair for him to tear apart and feast on, and the wolf chooses to give it orgasms instead.”

Peter growled again, pinned his boy to his chest in a vise grip, and started thrusting back.

“The knotting” he panted in Stiles neck, fucking his boy slowly, but determinately, taking his pleasure from the boy’s flesh and giving pleasure back tenfold. Stiles whined.

“Tell me about the knotting” Peter demanded and hardened his grip around the boy.

Stiles was completely incapable of getting away now, even if he wanted to. The only movement the young man was allowed was fucking himself on his mate’s shaft.

“The knotting,” Stiles panted, “is like the ultimate proof to whom I belong. To where I belong. By your side, in your arms, on your dick, with you, always and forever.”

Well, there’s an easy solution to all of Peter’s problems then, and a neat way to deal with Stiles’ insecurities. But Peter had to check.

“So you wouldn’t freak out if I suddenly sprang fangs and claws, and knotted you and gave you the mating bite?” he panted. He was close, very, very close. One word from his mate and he was going to spill.

“God, no! That’s all I wish for!” and the honest, deep yearning in the young man’s voice was so clear, that in any other case Peter would have been humbled by it. His boy wanted nothing more than to belong to him.

Peter swiftly rolled them over, Stiles sprawled on the bed on his stomach, pinned under Peter’s entire weight.

“Wish granted,” the man growled as he wolfed out.

“Wish granted,” he repeated and bit down where his mate’s shoulder met his neck giving him the mating bite and drawing the most intense orgasm Stiles had ever had. Peter released the flesh beneath his teeth, licked the blood from the wound and grinned down wolfishly at it. His boy that was so blissed out right now that he couldn’t register the revelation.

The werewolf pulled almost all the way out and shoved back into his mate with one final, hard trust.

“And wish granted,” he growled for the last time and let his knot inflate and tie him to his boy, which elicited a surprised cry from Stiles, although the surprise was not from the revelation the boy was currently incapable of registering, but from the surprise orgasm the knot drew out from his mate.

Peter smiled victoriously. When wolves knot, they have a ten minute long orgasm, cumming, and cumming and cumming in their mates. Stiles was going to be so full of his spunk his belly would bloat up. But more importantly, the wolf won’t be alone in his experience. The knot will give his mate orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Peter was pretty sure that he’d have to repeat the werewolf reveal and the mate reveal in a normal setting, because Stiles was going to pass out from pleasure any minute now. But that will be later. For now bringing Stiles pleasure in addition to his endless peak had consumed him with triumph.

At that moment, with Stiles trembling and convulsing under him while being filled with probably a gallon of spunk, Peter Hale felt like the king of the world, because he was capable of granting his mate the three wishes… and probably every other wish that would follow.


End file.
